What Humans Call 'Love'
by Renasza
Summary: Jake survives the battle against Ulrezaj and falls into a comatose state for two years. When he wakes, he's met with an unusual sight. Told from Jakes POV. Rated M for later content R


**A/N: Here's a Zamara x Jake fic. Please read and review.**  
**Disclaimer: Starcraft is © to Blizzard™ **  
**Enjoy.**

I rolled around the cot I lay on, the stiff mattress springs threatening to impale my back. I hadn't had a good night's sleep since the doctors of Valerian's consort had removed the malignant tumors that had grown while Zamara had been present in my mind. Giving up on sleep, I sat up and opened my eyes, greeted by a flawlessly crafted walls hewn of soft, dark stone. Looking around, found a smooth, purple-skinned protoss towering over me. the pale sapphire eyes shone like gemfire in the dim light of the sick bay. I was unfamiliar with the face, but the feminine presence was all too recognizable. "Z-Zamara? Is that really you?" I choked on my words. Clearing my throat, I said, "I thought you were still in that Khaydarin crystal the dark templar downloaded you into. You have a body. H-how can this be? What about Ulrezaj?" As astonished as I was, it felt wonderful to have her presence near me. "I-How long have I been out?"  
"Almost two years, Jacob Ramsey," she replied, her telepathic voice in my head. Her eyes twinkled. A feeling of relief washed over me from Zamara's direction. "Thank the Wanderers from Afar, you survived the operation. I am relieved." A moment of silence engulfed the room. I carefully examined the visage of Zamara's form. She wore long flowing robes of white and lavender. Ornaments wrought of silver and gold adorned her psionic appendages. The Preserver held an almost divine beauty I found irresistible.  
"Pleased, even?" asked a raspy voice, interrupting my daze. I looked to my left to see the form of the Prelate sitting in a chair too small. Zeratul's face was much unlike the other protoss I'd met. He had more ridges and plates on his face than the smoothness of Zamara's. Like all dark templar, he'd severed the psionic cords that grew from his head. He'd tied remnants of the psionic appendages back into a ponytail. The very essence of darkness seemed to swirl about his being. The elderly Nerazim chuckled precociously, waving off Zamara's intense glare.  
Returning her attention back to me, Zamara said in a soft tone, "What's important, is that you're alive and well. Your intelligence rivals many even greater than most protoss. Your understanding of the arador made it possible to deliver my warning to the rest of my people. If you hadn't come along, we would all be doomed."  
"Where exactly are we?" I inquired, rubbing my eyes.  
"You're aboard the Hyperion," said a gravelly voice from the doorway. Craning my stiff neck to the far left, I found another terran. In fact, the last terran I'd seen since the operation. The middle aged man had a goatee grown around his mouth and his black hair was streaked with gray. A well-traveled leather vest layered over top a yellowing tee that had once been been white. "You can call me Raynor."  
My mouth dropped in astonishment. "You mean, _**the**_ James Raynor? Commander of Raynor's Raiders? How?"  
"Since Mengsk handed you over to us during an exchange I had with Valerian just before the Invasion of Char, we've had you in a suspended animation chamber for the last year and a half," answered James, taking a seat at the foot of the bunk. "Mind if I have a smoke?" At a shake of my head, Raynor retrieved a small wooden box from his pocket. Flicking a lighter into his hand, he lit a cigar and inserted it between his lips. Puffing a few times, the battle-worn man sighed. "That's better. Now lemme get you caught up with current events. The zerg are still out there, unfortunately. But we've made a large dent in the main forces during our attack on Char. Kerrigan-the Queen of Blades has regrouped to an underground lair below the surface of that volcanic planet. So now we're just staying low."  
I felt a warm hand touch my cheek, sparking a memory:

_I stared sickly at Zamara, my hands clutching hers as if I could anchor her her, keep her from dissolving into nothingness, even though I knew that this entire encounter was taking place inside my mind. "Is there no other way? Couldn't-I don't know-couldn't I be put into some kind of stasis until we find another preserver?"_  
"_Even if we did attempt such a thing, I do not know if it would make a difference. The memories are now held in a human brain now, not a protoss brain. Perhaps i was fated to this the moment I bonded with you." She reached out a long-fingered hand to touch my cheek. "And if that is so," she continued, "then it is so. Without you, I never would have had the chance to reveal my knowledge. I only hope you survive, Jacob. You have astonished me with your ability adapt, recover and persevere. If your species produces individuals like you...then the protoss have much to learn from such an upstart race." The thought amused her greatly; I noticed she was trying to interject levity, but I simply shook my head._  
"_ZAMARA!" I cried out brokenly. Impulsively, I reached out to hold her, to keep her here, just for a little while longer. I realized, as odd as it seemed, I'd grown to love this protoss. She'd hijacked my body, brought about the death of my friends and her presence inside of me might mean my own death. But I'd never before seen such integrity. She had become a part of me. And now she was about to disappear. About to be lost forever. _

"_No," I vowed. "You won't be lost, Zamara. I'll remember you...the way humans do. I'll make sure that everyone knows about you-what you did for your people. How brave you were. How much you loved them. I know it's not the same thing, hell, it's not the same thing at all, but you'll still be more than dry words locked in a crystal somewhere. I'll tell them, I swear. If you learned something about us, then we'll learn something about the protoss. I just wish-"_

_Her hand, warm, the skin slightly rough and dry, brushing my cheek._

"_I know, Jacob Jefferson Ramsey. I know."_

_And before my eyes, she began to fade._

Returning back to the present, I inquired, looking into her soft blue eyes, "Zamara, how did you manage to procure another body?"

"The Alys'aril," Zamara spoke calmly. "One of the dark templar was able to draw my essence from the crystal we salvaged from the chambers beneath Aiur. This body was recovered from Nemaka. Renewed and my own. I live again."

"I'm glad."


End file.
